Yesterday Chris had an appointment with a financial advisor. He’s the guy who is handling the stocks that she received as her inheritance when her Mom died. Chris got a nasty letter last week telling her that if she didn’t make contact with the financial advisor company, then the account would be turned over to the state as inactive. Scary stuff, huh? So she called and made an appointment to touch base with him. He suggested they meet at Sugar Bean, a coffee shop in a local planned community. I went along for moral support, primarily. And to help her remember what questions she thought up when we were on our walk.
The advisor bought me a cup of coffee and we went to the coffee shop’s outdoor seating where we hoped it would be a little quieter. There wasn’t any talking to compete with, but there was construction going on that made it necessary to raise our voices every now and then. I’m such a quiet guy by nature that I kind of sat back in my chair and watched the proceedings, only occasionally adding or requesting some words of clarification. All’s right with the world.
Until … I noticed a date that the guy had written down on a piece of paper that didn’t look like the date Chris had given him for something. So I shifted in my chair just a little bit forward to double-check what I was seeing before saying anything. And then it happened. Perfect place for a cliff-hanger here, isn’t it? I’ll be kind …
The chair underneath me began to sway, and it wasn’t a rocker. And in slow motion one side completely gave way. And on the way down, the other side gave way. And just before I hit the ground the armrest collapsed. And as I fell backward when the chair back collapsed, the other armrest crumbled with me. Every single place there was a connection, a bolt or a screw of any kind, that place severed and flattened. By the time my little adventure was complete, you could have picked up the pieces and repackaged them. It was like I had been sitting in a joke chair and someone pulled the string. The advisor guy was standing over me. Construction workers began picking up the pieces of the dead chair. Someone said they would go get the manager, and soon she was in the mix, asking for my contact information and giving me the owner’s name and contact info and assuring me that the manager would give me a call. With some help I made my way to my feet. I was at first most worried about my back, but it was my knee that barked at me as I rose. It had twisted beneath me under the chair. I guess that’s why it took so long to completely flatten out. The manager kept asking if I was all right and if I needed anything. Several people offered to get me a chair, but I opted to spend the rest of our time together sitting on a concrete barricade. The construction workers were impressed, and more than a little amused by my choice. We were able to finish our meeting without any more slapstick interruptions.
I wondered how the knee would feel this morning. It is certainly sore, but I don’t think I am any worse for wear. I suppose if the owner calls or if it starts really bothering me, I could go get it checked out. I do have a full day today, though. We’ll see …
Psalms 54:4 says, “Surely God is my help; the Lord is the one who sustains me.”
Father, thank you for the concern expressed by the advisor and manager and especially the construction workers. Give them all a peaceful day today. Amen.